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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706112">The War at Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wittywit/pseuds/Wittywit'>Wittywit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Red Hood VS Robin [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Super Sons (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brotherly Bonding, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian makes friends, Damian reads Harry Potter, Damian wayne becomes friends with Jon, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd are Siblings, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Good Bro Dick Grayson, Jason Todd &amp; Damian Wayne Bonding, Jason Todd is Damian Wayne's Parent, Jason is Damian's biological father, Other, Police Officer Dick Grayson, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake and Damian Wayne Fight, Tim Drake and Jason Todd are Siblings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:22:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wittywit/pseuds/Wittywit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite their unwillingness, Dick, Jason, and Damian leave the comfort of their Bludhaven apartment to spend Christmas at Wayne Manor with the rest of the family, only to find themselves with a new mission...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Batfamily Members &amp; Jason Todd, Jason Todd &amp; Damian Wayne, Jon Lane Kent &amp; Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Red Hood VS Robin [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819420</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>298</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A very Merry Christmas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was seven in the morning on the 24th of December, when Dick knocked on the door of Jason’s apartment. He was holding a small suitcase and on his face was the unmistakable expression of a man who had come to terms with his unpleasant predicament, and through acceptance had found inner peace.</p><p>Jason opened the door and downed an entire cup of hot coffee as soon as he laid his eyes on his brother. </p><p>“You’re early,” he barked, completely ignoring the pain in his throat as the hot coffee burned through it. “They don’t expect us until twelve.”</p><p>“Well, I thought you two might get cold feet and run away at the last moment,” said Dick honestly and threw himself on a chair next to Damian, who was taking his breakfast more quietly than usual; <em>Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire </em>opened next to his bowl of cereal. He had only recently started the Harry Potter series and since then it had become even harder to speak to him without getting a hiss or an indistinguishable mumble in reply. </p><p>“We are not cowards, Richard!” protested Damian before hastily returning his attention to the book.</p><p>“Christmas at the Manor with the whole family can break even the toughest amongst us,” said Dick darkly.</p><p>A couple of months ago, during their last visit to Gotham, Alfred had invited all three of them to spend Christmas at the Wayne Manor. It’d been a very long time since they had celebrated Christmas at all, and it would be the first one with the whole family alive and present.</p><p>“I’m only going for Alfred,” stated Jason firmly, “poor old man is so excited to have us all back.”</p><p>“And we haven’t seen Tim in a while,” added Dick, ignoring Damian’s hiss.</p><p>Their youngest brother had returned to Gotham only last month, after spending most of the year traveling around Europe with Stephanie to spy on Talia and stop her from resurrecting Ra’s al Ghul.</p><p>“Yeah, I still owe him an ass-kicking for all those e-mails he sent me,” said Jason, and a small smile made its brief appearance on his face. “This trip might not be as bad, after all.”</p><p>Dick shook his head disapprovingly. </p><p>“No fighting!” He pointed at Jason, who smirked, and at Damian, who didn’t bother to look up from the book. “I’m serious. For once, we are going to have a civilized Christmas. We will eat dinner, exchange presents, and leave. No fighting. Not with Bruce. Not with Tim. Not with each other -- No fighting.”</p><p>“Dick, it’s about time you accept that we have a perfectly normal dysfunctional family, and punching each other in the face is how we communicate,” said Jason matter-of-factly, causing Dick to heave a heavy sigh.</p><p>After a few more sighs, the trio walked regrettably out of the apartment, Jason holding a large fish tank in his arms with Damian’s goldfish, Sparky, and together they entered Dick’s car. The drive to Gotham took nearly two hours, due to the traffic, causing Jason to seriously consider bursting out of the car and start shooting at anyone who dared to honk at them, but was otherwise uneventful and they reached their destination at the expected time and without any additions to their criminal records (Jason decided this would be his Christmas present to Bruce). </p><p>“All right, let’s act like grown-ups, and try not to get into any arguments, especially with Bruce. He’s our father, he raised us, and deep… <em>deep</em> down we all like each other,” said Dick, speaking mostly to himself, and knocked on the large entrance door.</p><p>The door opened almost immediately and they were greeted by Alfred’s expression of repressed excitement; his usual black vest was replaced by an ill-fitted red one that had reindeers and Christmas trees on it. </p><p>“Are we having an ugly vest contest?” asked Jason.</p><p>The butler glared at him dangerously through his narrowed eyes. </p><p>“Master Tim got it for me. He thought it looked <em>festive</em>,” said Alfred indignantly and closed the door behind them.</p><p>The rest of the manor appeared to be just as festive. There were garlands wrapped around the <span>banisters </span><span>of every staircase, colorful lights hanging over the door frames, and every room had at least one Christmas tree inside, each decorated with different color ornaments.</span></p><p>“You’re early,” they heard a familiar voice.</p><p>Jason leaned forward and saw Tim make his way toward them from the library. </p><p>“That’s because we couldn’t wait to see you, Timbo,” said Jason sarcastically and tried to crack his knuckles threateningly, but then he remembered he was still holding Damian’s fish tank. </p><p>“I see you brought some sushi,” said Tim pointing at Sparky. “Looks very fresh.”</p><p>Sure enough, at those words, Damian, who up until this point had made great effort to follow Dick’s instructions and be on his best behavior, even going as far as to accept a two-second hug from Alfred, <span>erupted </span><span>like a volcano.</span></p><p>“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY ABOUT SPARKY?” he roared and pushed his way to the front until he was standing inches away from Tim, and stared up at him like a little tiger waiting on his prey.</p><p>“You <em>named</em> him?” Tim snorted, “Didn’t your dad teach you not to play with your food?”</p><p>Damian let out a war cry and jumped into an attack, but Jason, who had the good sense to set the fish tank on a small coffee table decorated with garlands and fake snow, managed to grab the back of his hoody and pulled him back so suddenly that for a few seconds Damian’s feet dangled off the ground, though still trying to kick Tim.</p><p>Tim laughed. Not too long ago, Damian had hacked his computer and was able to spy on him for nearly six months; nevertheless, Dick doubted that this invasion of privacy was the only reason behind Tim’s current bad mood.</p><p>“How are you, buddy?” Dick stepped forward to hug Tim. </p><p>“<em>Fine</em>,” muttered Tim miserably, “just enjoying the holidays.”</p><p>Dick threw him a searching look, then nodded. If something was bothering his brother, surely there would be a time to discuss it. He glanced around the overly-decorated hallway. Something was missing</p><p>“Bruce is in Metropolis,” explained Tim with a shrug, “he said he’ll be back for dinner.”</p><p>Dick, Jason, and Damian went to their rooms to leave their stuff. They had all taken their old rooms on the second floor, which had barely been touched since their last visit, for Alfred had insisted the rooms remain the same in case any of them ever wished to come back. Jason usually avoided the Manor and had never bothered to redecorate; therefore, his room was still filled with old posters of movies, bands, and basketball players he liked when he was seventeen.</p><p>He stood in the hallway leading to his room and smiled sadly. Back when he was a child, he loved Christmas at the Manor. After all, it was far more pleasant than anything he had experienced on the streets. There were sweets, and presents, and even patrol seemed to be more fun than usual, but his favorite part was: the guests.</p><p>Back then, every year, Bruce would throw a big Christmas Eve party and invite all kinds of important people over to the Manor. Some of them would even spend the night and Jason would take it upon himself to make their stay <em>memorable</em>. He would orchestrate a number of brilliant pranks like replacing sugar with salt, hiding stinky shrimps under their mattresses, clogging their toilets with sponges, and fill the floor of the hallway in front of his room with marbles. He would then proceed to hide in his room, only peeking through the keyhole to catch a glimpse of his victims’ troubles.</p><p>However, most of the pranks proved to be not nearly as successful as the thirteen-year-old Jason had hoped. None of the guests ever used the salt and sugar that was on the table, the shrimps were discovered before they had the chance to stink up their entire rooms, they had all somehow figured out ways to unclog the toilets, and they all seemed to know to avoid that particular corridor. Jason always suspected that Alfred had tipped them off, and he would be very upset over this act of treason if it wasn’t for Dick’s repeated clumsiness.</p><p>Apart from businessmen, politicians, and occasionally members of the Justice League, the guest list always included the then-college student, Dick Grayson, who had never managed to go through that hallway without tripping over the marbles and having some of the most spectacular falls Jason had ever witnessed.</p><p>But what Jason had failed to realize was that Dick was an entertainer who craved for a lively audience just as much as Jason craved for entertainment. So despite being well aware of the marbles on the floor, Dick would trip, jump, spin in the air, cartwheel, and somersault, and then always meet the floor with the most audible groans. Sometimes he would spend up to twenty minutes coming up with a good enough routine to perform before passing through that hallway. He would take pleasure in hearing Jason’s giggles from behind the door and give him a few seconds to enjoy his small victory over him before scrambling to his feet and spending the next several minutes chasing after the tiny Robin.</p><p>“What are you smiling about?” asked Dick coming out of his room, his suitcase no longer hanging from his hand.</p><p>"Remember my marble prank?" asked Jason, proudly, “I got you so many times! Especially that first year!”</p><p>“Oh yes, I was very clumsy,” said Dick, trying to suppress a laugh.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The rest of the day was spent between the kitchen and the library. Dick and Tim had both volunteered to help Alfred with cooking, even though they already knew the answer. Jason was the only person other than Alfred allowed anywhere near the kitchen for the next few hours, and even though this rule wasn’t officially announced, when Dick made the mistake to try and get himself a glass of water, he got so many angry stares, that he could still feel Alfred’s eyes burning a hole at the back of his neck half an hour later. So instead, Dick thought it would be best to spend his spare time enjoying a few games of chess with Tim.</p><p>“Is the brat still your partner?” asked Tim, looking pointedly at Damian, who was curled up on a sofa next to the lit fireplace, his face buried behind <em>Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire</em>.</p><p>“Why? Are you interested in the job?” Dick smiled at his little brother’s scowl. “Yes, he’s still my partner. But only on the weekends, Jason won’t let him out on school nights.”</p><p>“Good for him,” Tim sounded impressed that Jason had managed to put his foot down on something as important as Damian's Robin career. “How is fatherhood treating him anyway?”</p><p>Dick leaned over the chessboard, shot a glance at Damian to make sure he was too busy with his book and dropped his voice to a whisper.</p><p>“Better than I thought. Apparently, Jay has a lot more patience than I ever gave him credit for.” He straightened up before asking, “Is Stephanie coming over?”</p><p>Tim’s ears immediately turned red as he tried to murmur something, but the sound of the door being pulled open saved him the trouble.</p><p>“You know,” Damian suddenly unglued his eyes from the book to look at his father, who had just entered the library, bringing along with him a delightful smell of cinnamon, “You and Harry Potter have a lot in common, you’re both ‘<em>the boy who lived</em>’”</p><p>Jason looked thunderstruck. This was the nicest thing Damian had ever said about him.</p><p>“I guess you’re right,” he said, looking proudly around the room, to make sure everyone had heard.</p><p>“Does that make Bruce the Dursleys?” asked Tim sarcastically.</p><p>“I’m not Dudley!” complained Dick at once, waving around his fallen knight.</p><p>“You’re more like Cedric Diggory,” said Tim kindly, but Dick didn’t seem to like this alternative any better.</p><p>“No, thanks! He dies…”</p><p>BANG!</p><p>They all turned just in time to watch <em>Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire</em> slide onto the hardwood floor after being smashed against the wall.</p><p>At the other end of the room, Damian was standing on his feet, his hands shaking furiously.</p><p>“Diggory dies?” he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice low and dangerous.</p><p>Almost immediately comprehension dawned on everybody’s faces.</p><p>“Oops, spoilers…” Dick held his breath and watched the boy spin around and disappear into the next room, where they heard him stomping up the staircase to his bedroom. Jason gave a sigh, picked up the book from the floor, and went after his son.</p><p>“I think Jason is gonna really like my Christmas present,” said Tim with a mischievous half-smile, which gave Dick one more reason to worry about family Christmas.</p><p> </p><hr/><p><br/><br/>Bruce showed up in time for dinner just as he had promised. His eyes were dark as if he hadn’t slept for days and the way he kept looking at the decorations gave them the impression he had only now realized it was Christmas Eve. Nevertheless, he looked pleased to see them all together.</p><p>Damian was still sulking over the spoiler but had agreed to eat with the rest of the family under the condition that nobody was going to talk about Harry Potter until he had finished all books, which as he bragged, wouldn’t take him more than a couple of days. Tim wanted to point out that the only person mentioning Harry Potter every three seconds was none other than Damian himself, but after a quick look around the table, he decided to start world war 3 on another day; preferably when Bruce wouldn’t be around.</p><p>“Is Barbara coming?” asked Jason, in an attempt to break the awkward silence that had lasted for the last seven minutes.</p><p>“I invited her,” said Dick, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and read from it, changing his voice to sound like an exaggerated version of Barbara, “<em>Thanks, Dick! But I have a family I actually like. Happy holidays!</em>”</p><p>Everybody laughed, and Damian muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like: “lucky her.”</p><p>“What about Stephanie?” asked Jason and watched Tim shake his head, his ears again turning to a bright shade of red. “Did you two break up or something? -- Ouch! <em>Who kicked me?</em>” he yelped and stared furiously at Dick, whose side the kick had come from.</p><p>“Let’s not talk about that now,” said Tim in what he clearly thought was a calm and smooth voice.</p><p>“That’s a <em>yes</em>,” announced Damian gleefully.</p><p>There was a moment during which everybody on the table was convinced that the knife in Tim’s hand would go flying towards Damian’s head. But Tim proved them all wrong, and with an impressive amount of self-restraint, he forced his hand down to continue cutting the dry piece of turkey on his plate.</p><p>“Who wants more salad?” asked Alfred quickly.</p><p>“Me!” shouted Dick, even though he had not yet touched the existing salad on his plate, and took the giant crystal bowl out of Alfred’s hands.</p><p>“So, how is work at the police station, Master Dick?” asked Alfred in an attempt to change the subject, though everybody’s eyes were still on Tim’s knife.</p><p>“Good…” said Dick absentmindedly, “catching bad guys… doing paperwork… the usual.”</p><p>“It’s a colossal waste of your time,” said Bruce from the top of the table, where he sat. It was the first time he spoke since they all sat down for dinner.</p><p>Dick’s fork slipped off his fingers and the metallic <em>cling</em> of silverware meeting the porcelain plate traveled around the table like a thunder.</p><p>He knew that Bruce didn’t agree with him joining the police force. After all, he had made it perfectly clear from the beginning and on every chance he got since then, but he didn’t expect Bruce to disrespect his job during the only family gathering they had in years.</p><p>“Remember, <em>no fighting,</em>” Jason whispered cheerfully in Dick’s ear, earning himself another kick under the table.</p><p>“Master Jason!” cried Alfred looking around the table for help, “can you please pass the gravy?”</p><p>Jason passed over the gravy boat, and while doing so, he hit the side of Dick’s head as an act of retaliation for the two kicks. The rest of the dinner continued in silence, which turned out to be the best way to avoid any arguments.</p><p>Once dinner was over, they all made a desperate attempt to go their separate ways, but Alfred reminded them there was still one festive activity on his list, and since nobody dared to disagree with him, they all stepped into the TV room where they were supposed to enjoy their favorite Christmas movie: Die Hard.</p><p>They each sank into a comfortable armchair, turned off the lights, and pressed the play button. Not three minutes after the movie had started that Bruce, Dick, Tim, and even Alfred, had all fallen asleep. Jason was just about to follow tradition and also enjoy a good nap when he noticed that Damian had never watched Die Hard before. He had already missed out on so many of Damian’s firsts, he couldn’t afford to miss out on more, so he forced his eyes to remain open and watched Damian watch the movie.</p><p>The movie ended at midnight, and almost as if they had set an alarm, Alfred, Bruce, Dick, and Tim, all woke up at the exact same time.</p><p>“What a great movie,” said Dick stretching his arms with a silent yawn.</p><p>“The best,” agreed Alfred, fixing his glasses, that had rolled bellow the tip of his nose.</p><p>“Right! Merry Christmas!” said Bruce getting up to his feet, ready to retrieve to the Bat-cave, but Alfred motioned him to sit back down.</p><p>“Just a moment, Master Bruce, let’s not forget about the true meaning of Christmas,” said Alfred, “presents!”</p><p>“I miss Joker,” said Jason quietly, so that only Dick could hear him, as they all dragged their feet to the Christmas tree placed in the drawing-room.</p><p>Underneath the tree, there were piles of presents for each of them. The biggest one was for Damian, who sat down on the carpet next to the tree and started ripping off the colorful paper.</p><p>Jason sat back in an armchair and watched Damian open presents, waiting for him to reach his.</p><p>“A shamshir!” Alfred, Bruce, and Dick turned around to see Damian pull a beautiful sword with a curved blade out of its scabbard. “Thanks!”</p><p>“I didn’t know what else to get him,” Jason shrugged apologetically at the others, while Tim took his presents and backed away from Damian instinctively.</p><p>After Damian was done with all his presents and was too busy taking swings with his new sword, Jason noticed a small pile of presents with his name on it. He took hold of an envelope that was on top, rippled it open, and pulled out a small, rectangular piece of paper. It was a gift card for a… <em>vasectomy</em>. Jason had to read the word several times before it registered in his brain. The gift-card had come with a note, written in Tim’s calligraphy:</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>“Do the world a favor, love, Tim.”</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>“Where’s Tim?” asked Jason innocently while raising his eagle-like eyes to scan the room.</p><p>“He just left with Bruce – Damian no!” gasped Dick, trying to keep Damian from chopping the Christmas tree in half with his new sword.</p><p>“That’s why he’s the smart one,” muttered Jason and set the gift-card aside to pick up a box he knew was from Dick just by looking at it. The box was wrapped carefully with shiny paper and had a beautiful little bow on its side.</p><p>He opened it carefully, almost as if to respect the effort Dick had put into wrapping it. Inside was a framed photograph. His stomach dropped. A younger version of himself was smiling at him from inside the picture. He was seated next to Talia, her long hair blowing in the wind, as they sat happily on the rocks at the Infinite Island with a dark-haired baby between them.</p><p>Damian had crept behind the armchair and was now also staring at the photo.</p><p>“Is that from my mother?” he asked, examining the three happy people in the photo.</p><p>“Talia sent it to me a couple of weeks ago to give it to you,” said Dick, taking advantage of the opportunity to put Damian’s new sword back in its scabbard and out of reach.</p><p>“Your hair was even more ridiculous than it is now,” laughed Damian, leaning over Jason’s shoulder to point at young Jason’s hair that almost reached his shoulders.</p><p>“How dare you!” Jason grabbed the back of Damian’s sweater and pulled him forward. The boy let out a small gasp as he was forced to make a front flip over the armchair and Jason’s shoulder and land on his father's lap.</p><p>“Let go of me!” he twitched madly, jerking his hands and legs to break free, but Jason held him tightly, though admittedly with some difficulty.</p><p>“Are you having a good Christmas?” Jason asked loudly so that his voice was heard over Damian’s screams.</p><p>“Not anymore!” shouted Damian, searching for his sword that was now on top of the fireplace.</p><p>Jason laughed and let him loose. The boy quickly scrambled away and went for his sword, though one look from Jason was enough to stop him from pointing it at him.</p><p> </p><hr/><p><br/>It was two o’clock in the morning and all festivities had ended long ago. Damian had gone to sleep, Alfred, Bruce, and Tim were down in the Bat-cave, while Dick and Jason were in the drawing-room enjoying the peace that came at last at the Wayne Manor.</p><p>“We’re leaving first thing in the morning,” said Jason rubbing his eyes, and Dick nodded. They had both spent days and nights fighting all kinds of criminals and monsters without showing even the slightest sign of fatigue, but there was something about family-time that made them feel physically and mentally exhausted.</p><p>Tim entered the drawing-room but stood by the door, just in case Jason was still planning to attack him for his present, and said darkly, “Bruce wants to speak to us in the bat-cave.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Back To Gotham</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Bat-cave was poorly lit, cold, and smelled of mold and dust. Dick, Jason, and Tim were all shivering inside their sweaters while sitting at the conference table which was always associated with moments of deep crises, and staring up at their father, waiting for him to speak. Bruce had refused to take a seat, and instead was walking up and down the length of the table, almost as if he couldn’t handle being stationary.</p><p>“Thank you all for coming,” he said hurriedly, after Tim, the last one to arrive, sat down. “There is something I need to ask of you.”</p><p>“That’s new,” snorted Jason, catching with his mouth a piece of chocolate he stole from the kitchen on his way to the cave.</p><p>“I will have to leave Gotham for the next few weeks,” started Bruce, gazing around the room to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “And I will need someone to take over the protection of the city, as well as to ensure the proper management of the Wayne Enterprises in my absence.”</p><p>There was a stunned silence, interrupted only by Jason’s cough, as the piece of chocolate was now stuck in his throat.</p><p>Dick was the first to recover.</p><p>“And who do you have in mind?” he asked, his icy tone matching the temperature of the cave.</p><p>Bruce stopped pacing.</p><p>“You,” he looked at the three young men in front of him, “all of you.”</p><p>There was another long pause.</p><p>“<em>All</em> of us?” repeated Jason disbelievingly, “you want <em>me</em> here?”</p><p>“<em>No</em>, there’s no need for all of us!” argued Tim, pushing himself angrily to the edge of his chair, “I already told you, Bruce, I can do it all on my own!”</p><p>Bruce raised a hand to silence him.</p><p>“Yes, all of you," he said and turned to Dick, prompting him to speak.</p><p>His eldest son was unnaturally quiet. He had sunk deeper into his seat and was blankly staring at the stone floor. At the sound of his name, he raised his eyes to the direction of his father.</p><p>“Where will you go?” he asked quietly.</p><p>Bruce turned his back on them and began adjusting his utility belt</p><p>“I can’t tell you that,” he admitted. “The mission is classified, and the less you know, the better it will be for all of us.”</p><p>The corners of Dick’s mouth twitched.</p><p>“Of course,” he muttered, and stood up, “you expect us to abandon our lives and come back here, without even telling us why.” </p><p>“I’m sure the golden-boy knows all about it,” said Jason, winking at Tim, who gave him the middle finger.</p><p>“I’m not forcing you to do anything. I only asked for your help,” said Bruce, carefully pulling objects in and out of his belt.</p><p>“I have a city of my own to protect, Bruce. I did my time in Gotham -- as Robin, Nightwing, <em>and</em> Batman. I think I’ve helped enough.” Dick stepped back, bracing himself for an outburst of fury that didn’t come.</p><p>“What about you, Jason?” asked Bruce. They couldn’t see his face but his voice was calm and even.</p><p>Jason hesitated. After all that had happened between them in the last few years, he couldn’t believe he was being handed an invitation to come back and do business in Gotham.</p><p>“I’ll come,” he announced, throwing an apologetic glance at Dick, who couldn't help but let out a displeased groan. “I mean, Bludhaven is not that bad, but their school system is awful. Damian’s basketball team has so far lost every game -- it’s pathetic. I hear my old coach is still teaching in Gotham Academy, the kid is gonna love him.”</p><p>“You mean that win-obsessed bully? I’m sure they’ll be best pals,” snorted Tim.</p><p>“Coach Anderson was the best coach that school has ever had!” Jason shot back, waving his finger at the boy.</p><p>Tim was ready to argue further, but Bruce’s voice made him remember why they were there.</p><p>“I'm leaving tonight,” said Bruce and checked the time on his wrist, before adding, “I’m grateful for your help, and I want you to know I don’t take it for granted.”</p><p>He motioned them to get up and patted each of them on the shoulder. When he reached Dick, his eldest son moved out of the way. For a second he thought Bruce was going to say something, but the man simply nodded, whipped around, and jumped inside the bat-mobile.</p><p>“Wow, that was beautiful,” said Jason the moment he found himself alone with his brothers, accompanying his words with a slow clap, “I’ve never seen the original golden-boy going against Daddy’s orders. Good for you, bro!”</p><p>“Why are you staying?” asked Dick as calmly as he could muster, hoping to avoid taking his frustration out on his brother.</p><p>“He’s not!” said Tim before Jason had the chance to answer, “I don’t need any of you to stay, especially <em>you</em>,” he pointed to Jason, “so do me a favor and take your brat and go home.”</p><p>“I’m hurt, Timbo,” cried Jason, clutching his chest in mock heartbreak, “I thought you would appreciate my company.”</p><p>“Jay, full offense, but I have enough on my plate already, without having to babysit you!”</p><p>“Oh come on, I can help! Both on the streets and in the company.”</p><p>Tim let out a crazy laugh.</p><p>“You’re not allowed anywhere near any of the Wayne buildings. I’m serious! The security has pictures of you, so you take one step inside and they <em>will</em> arrest you!”</p><p>“I’d like to see them try,” said Jason, cracking his knuckles threateningly.</p><p>“Go home!” Tim turned on his heel and went up the staircase.</p><p>“This is my home!” Jason yelled after him.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The following morning, Jason stepped out of his room and walked along the corridor. The manor was eerily quiet. He first knocked on Tim’s door but the boy wasn’t in his room, he was sure that the kid was still in the bat-cave, working. He then moved towards Dick's room but he wasn’t inside either. He finally reached Damian’s door at the end of the corridor. It was wide open and he could hear a little voice coming from inside. Damian was sitting on top of his bed and talking to Sparky whilst polishing his brand new sword; his face was bright red.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” he asked him, watching the boy rubbing furiously the blade of his sword.</p><p>“Drake,” spat Damian, his face growing steadily redder.</p><p>Jason sighed.</p><p>“What did he say?”</p><p>“He said Batman left and you want us to stay here, is it true?”</p><p>Jason leaned against the doorframe and pushed his hair back nervously.</p><p>“Bruce asked us to stay and protect Gotham,” he explained carefully, watching Damian wince, “Is that okay with you?”</p><p>Damian didn’t answer.</p><p>“Will Richard stay?” he asked instead.</p><p>Jason felt a small tinge of jealousy prickle his heart. He knew that Damian didn’t like the manor and the year he had to spend in it was the worse of his short life. He also knew that the only person that had provided any comfort to him during that time was Dick, and because of that, he would be eternally grateful to his brother; nevertheless, he wished it was him Damian would seek after every time he was in distress, instead of Dick.</p><p>“Yes,” he lied, unable to give his son a different answer. “Of course he will.”</p><p>Damian nodded.</p><p>“You should go down for breakfast, Alfred will be expecting you, I’ll be there soon -- I just have to do something first,” said Jason and ran down the stairs, hoping to find Dick. He searched for more than ten minutes and finally found him in the garden. He was sitting on a bench. He must’ve been sitting there for some time, for his hair was half-covered in snow. Jason walked the distance and sat next to him.</p><p>“You will stay,” he commanded. “Damian needs you here. So, I don't care if I have to superglue you on the wall, you're staying.”</p><p>Dick wasn’t listening.</p><p>“You know what pisses me off the most?” he asked, pushing the snow on the ground with his boot.</p><p>“That I’m younger, stronger, and prettier than you?” Jason guessed.</p><p>Dick ignored him.</p><p>“He knew I was going to stay. He knew I could never leave you two to run this place. And so he wins like he always does.” He kicked more of the snow with his boot, “I’m a grown man and he can still order me around just like when I was a kid.”</p><p>“Does that mean you're staying?”</p><p>“Ever since I was eighteen, ever since he fired me, I tried to build a life separate from him, be my own man, and yet every time he asks, I abandon it all and run to him like a good puppy. I swore I would never be Batman, I begged him to never ask me to put on the cowl…” Dick went quiet again, lost in his own bitter thoughts.</p><p>“You don’t have to be Batman,” said Jason, “he’ll be back in a couple of weeks and then you can return to Bludhaven.”</p><p>Dick rubbed his face, before rounding on his brother, “I don’t understand, why are <em>you </em>staying?”</p><p>Jason shrugged.</p><p>“The truth is, I like this place -- I do!” he answered to Dick’s incredulous look, “before you came here, you had a loving family; I had nothing. I wasn’t <em>fired</em> like you, and I never left for college or to travel to Europe with my girlfriend like Tim… I just -- <em>died</em>. As depressing as it sounds, this is the best home I’ve ever had.”</p><p>Jason was embarrassed to see a trace of pity passing over his brother’s bright blue eyes.</p><p>“Let’s go back inside, it’s freezing here,” said Dick, wrapping an arm around Jason's shoulder, and hurried to change the subject, “So! Gotham Academy.”</p><p>“Yeah, I will enroll him next week.”</p><p>“Good luck to them,” smiled Dick and walked with Jason back inside the manor to enjoy a hot cup of tea with homemade crumpets, butter, and jam.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The holidays were over and the time had come when Jason and Damian had to walk through the Gotham Academy gates. It’s been over ten years since Jason had last been to his old school. Together they strolled across the grounds, walking by laughing children running left and right, reconnecting with their friends after two long weeks of separation, and getting all their energy out before the first bell of the new term.</p><p>Damian was already in his school uniform, which Jason thought made him look adorable but refrained from sharing his opinion, unlike Tim who spent that entire morning screaming, “Ten points from Slytherin!”, every time he laid his eyes on Damian.</p><p>Together they entered the hall decorated exclusively by the countless trophies and awards the students had won for the school over the last two centuries. Dick, Jason, and Tim, had all helped expand the collection over their time at the school, and if Jason had a few minutes to spare, he would indulge in a fun trip down memory lane, but they were in a big rush that morning.</p><p>They quickly climbed to the third floor and knocked on the door labeled: “Headmaster J. Miller” before entering.</p><p>A grey-haired man in his early sixties was seating behind a desk, typing busily on his keyboard. At the sound of people entering his office, he lifted his pale eyes from the screen of his computer and glanced at Damian before moving them to Jason. He froze.</p><p>“It’s really <em>you</em>,” he said, his voice slightly shaking. "I saw your name on my schedule, but I didn't believe it was <em>you</em>."</p><p>“Hello Mr. Miller,” Jason smiled at his old science professor, who had since been promoted to Headmaster.</p><p>“Is it really you?” three highly visible drops of sweat began forming on Mr. Miller’s forehead.</p><p>“In the flesh!” laughed Jason.</p><p>“But… but <em>how</em>?” Mr. Miller’s eyes had bulged, giving him a weird toad-like appearance, while more and more sweat was dripping down from his forehead to the collar of his buttoned-up shirt. “We thought you were -- <em>dead</em>.”</p><p><em>Crap… </em>Jason hadn’t thought of that. After he was gone, Bruce had refrained from giving any clear explanation of what had happened to him; naturally many rumors started going around, and most people had rightly assumed he was dead.</p><p>Mr. Miller picked up his phone and dialed a number on it, “<em>it’s him,</em>” he said before throwing his phone back on the desk. Jason didn’t know to whom that call was made, but it didn’t take more than forty seconds to find out.</p><p>The door burst open and three women, followed by four men, all well into their fifties and all out of breath as if they had just run up several flights of stairs, entered the room. They stared at Jason from head to toe before letting out a gasp.</p><p>“We thought you were dead!” said a man who stood closer to the door, which Jason recognized to be his old history professor.</p><p>“We really did,” said his old music instructor, a woman with thick black hair tight in a strict bun on the top of her head.</p><p>“We had a memorial for you in the teachers’ lounge,” said the woman next to her.</p><p>“It was a beautiful day.”</p><p>“We even brought cake.”</p><p>“Ah! That cake was splendid, coconut wasn’t it?”</p><p>“How did you come back?”</p><p>“<em>Why</em> did you come back?”</p><p>Jason couldn’t help but notice they all sounded disappointed by the fact that he was alive.</p><p>He opened his mouth to respond but just as the words started to form in his throat, an angry scream came from outside. They all turned to the direction of the screams that kept getting more clear, and soon they could see that the voice belonged to a short, round man, with a head so bold and shiny, one would be tempted to try and find his reflection in it.</p><p>“WHERE IS THAT LITTLE SHIT? WHERE IS HE?” the man was screaming at the top of his lungs, “YOU!” he roared, as his small bloodshot eyes found Jason, “WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU? YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO WALZ BACK IN HERE, AFTER DISAPPEARING ON ME AND CAUSING ME TO LOSE THE STATE CHAMPIONSHIP? DO YOU HAVE A DEATHWISH, BOY?”</p><p>Several students, compelled by the screams, had gathered outside the office, trying to catch a glimpse of the madman that had dared to enrage Coach Anderson.</p><p>Jason was lost for words. The week after he had died they were supposed to play in the semi-finals. They were favorites to win the cup with the best team the school had seen since Dick was captain. In his defense though, he was dead. But he couldn’t say that to Coach.</p><p>“SPEAK YOU FILTHY LITTLE EXCUSE OF A MAN BEFORE I PUT YOU THROUGH THE WALL!” Coach Anderson yelled, waving his little angry fists around; the top of his head barely able to reach Jason’s shoulder.</p><p>“Sir, I really wanted to be at that game,” <em>but I was a little busy being dead</em>, Jason thought to add but didn’t.</p><p>“THEN WHY WEREN’T YOU?”</p><p>“Like it matters,” Damian scoffed all of a sudden, very displeased by the lack of attention he was receiving. “You would’ve lost anyway, so you keep blaming him to avoid admitting you <em>suck</em>.”</p><p>Coach Anderson’s face turned into an impressive shade of deep purple, while Jason grabbed Damian’s upper arm and pulled him as far away as possible from the man’s quivering fists.</p><p>“AND WHO THE HELL IS THAT?” the Coach roared, and everybody suddenly noticed Damian as if for the first time.</p><p>“That’s Damian, my son!” said Jason, and a fair amount of muttering followed this introduction.</p><p>“He has a son?”</p><p>“Will he enroll him here?”</p><p>“That should be illegal!”</p><p>“Oh Lord save us!”</p><p>Coach Anderson examined Damian through narrowed eyes before turning to Jason, “does he play?”</p><p>“He does!” Jason hurried to assure him.</p><p>“He’s too short,” barked the Coach, though a lot calmer.</p><p>“As was I. He’s very good!”</p><p>“We’ll see about that,” and with those words, Coach Anderson gave Jason one final glare and left the room.</p><p>The news that Billionaire Bruce Wayne’s missing son, Jason Todd, was alive, spread around Gotham Academy like wildfire. By the time Jason finished signing all the required paperwork for Damian's enrollment and left the office, the entire school seemed to be aware of the news. Students and teachers alike would stop dead in their tracks, get in his way, and stare at him while whispering to their friends.</p><p>“Is that him?”</p><p>“I thought he was dead.”</p><p>“I heard he stole a car and Bruce Wayne sent him to a military school abroad.”</p><p>“I heard he was in Prison.”</p><p>Soon Jason and Damian had to exercise a great deal of self-restraint to stop themselves from punching their way through the ever-growing crowd.</p><p>“I thought you said you were good at school,” said Damian, as they passed a teacher, who appeared to be on the verge of tears after getting the news that a child biologically related to Jason Todd would be enrolled in their school.</p><p>“I said I was a good student and a star athlete, not that I was a nerd. That’s Tim,” said Jason defensively, deciding not to mention that Bruce had practically built the new library and had to pay for most of the entire school's renovation over the five years that Jason attended the Academy so that they wouldn't expel him over some of the wilder pranks he pulled.</p><p>They had finally reached the exit, when he heard another familiar voice coming from somewhere near him. He looked around and spotted a young woman around his age, telling off a couple of fifth-graders.</p><p>“But Professor! We just want to see him!” one of the boys was saying passionately.</p><p>“This is a school, not a zoo. Go to your class!” the woman scolded.</p><p>Jason held Damian back and waited for the two boys to disappear inside their classroom, before approaching the woman from behind.</p><p>“Jen, is that really you?” he asked.</p><p>The young woman whipped around to face him.</p><p>Chills run down his spine. It was her. The girl that was staring back at him was named Jen Sanders, and she was his girlfriend from sophomore year all the way until death did them apart.</p><p>“I heard the rumors but I didn’t believe them when they said it was you,” she said, nervously straightening her cardigan.</p><p>“What are you doing here?”</p><p>“I teach chemistry. It’s my second year.”</p><p>“Wow, I never thought of you as a teacher”</p><p>“You just never thought of me.”</p><p>Jason felt a squeeze in his stomach. The last time they saw each other, they were seventeen and planning a visit to the mall to watch a movie; he never got the chance to say goodbye to her.</p><p>“I’m Damian Wayne, his son,” Damian pushed himself between them.</p><p>Jason had never heard Damian introduce himself as his son before. He thought when the time came, it would feel nice, but there was something very aggressive about Damian’s tone that killed the magic of the moment. Jen appeared to have noticed it too, for she turned her attention to Damian and made sure to sweeten the look on her face, despite her shock.</p><p>“It’s nice to meet you, Damian, what grade are you in?” she asked softly.</p><p>“Sixth,” Damian shot at her.</p><p>Jen’s eyes slid out of focus, as she did the math, trying to figure out if Jason had cheated on her with Damian’s mother.</p><p>“Then I guess I’ll have you in my class,” she smiled, once she concluded that the child was born a couple of years after Jason’s disappearance. “Wayne, huh?” she turned to Jason, “Did you finally agree to take your dad’s name?”</p><p>“Nope, still a Todd,” he grinned at the confused look on her face, “it’s a long story.”</p><p>“Yeah, everything about you has always been a long story,” said Jen darkly, and marched across the hallway and out of sight. As soon as she was gone, Damian rounded threateningly on his father, his hands on his sides in a spot-on imitation of Dick.</p><p>“Are you interested in her?” he demanded.</p><p>Jason blinked violently and struggled for several seconds before declaring, “No! Of course not!”</p><p>The boy didn’t question him further.</p><p>“Then don’t speak to her ever again,” he said lightly and headed for the exit, leaving Jason standing alone in the corridor with his jaw on the floor.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Chapter: Super-sons</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Super-Sons Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Damian’s first week at Gotham Academy was far from uneventful. Every time he entered any of his classes, he was met with stares and muttering from the students and the teachers alike, although there was a big difference between the two. While many of the students were looking at him with curiosity mixed with admiration, the teachers had pure fear in their eyes – bumping into chairs and walls every time they noticed Damian being in close proximity to them.</p><p>It took Damian a couple of days before he could slowly piece together the puzzle of what made him so interesting; after all, Jason was just another student - or so Damian thought. His father would often talk of his school days and triumphs, but now, Damian was starting to realize that Jason had artfully brushed over a lot of information about his time in Gotham Academy. Like the time he thought the school lunches were too tasteless for his liking and convinced several of his classmates to lockup the entire school for a week in protest. Or the time he set loose fifty rats inside the house of his biology professor for giving him and his friends an unfair detention. Jason Todd was a hero and a menace.</p><p>The only teacher who had shown no signs of fear for Damian was Coach Anderson, who undoubtedly still remembered Damian’s little comment about it being his fault they lost nationals fifteen years ago and did everything in his academic power to make the boy pay for it.</p><p>Every day, Damian was forced to run twenty extra laps during practice and suffer through hours of yelling and belittling. Yet, Damian never complained. Coach Anderson’s punishments might’ve seemed cruel to the eyes of the average student, but compared to a normal training session with Ra’s al Ghul, it felt like a vacation on Paradise Island. And soon, despite all the taunting, Damian was almost sure that deep down, Coach Anderson quite liked him.</p><p>Yet the most surprising thing happened on Thursday afternoon. Damian was walking through the schoolyard, trying to get to his chemistry class - taught by Jen Sanders - when suddenly he felt his body being lifted off the ground and with extreme speed flown away by an invisible force. But before he was able to fight this unexpected enemy, his feet touched the ground and he found himself standing just outside the school grounds, facing a familiar boy around his age and size, with messy black hair, ripped jeans, and red sneakers.</p><p>Even in his dumbfounded state, it took one glance from Damian to recognize Jon Lane Kent, Superman’s son. The two had met once before, back when Damian was still living at the manor as Bruce Wayne's son. His ex-father had thought it would be helpful for Damian to spend some time with a kid his age, but after that first meeting, where instead of playing videogames, Damian convinced Jon to sneak outside of the house and secretly follow their fathers on a Justice League mission, Damian was deemed bad influence, and both Bruce and Clark had decided it would be best if he were kept away from other children.</p><p>“What the hell are you doing here?” demanded Damian angrily, fixing his tie.</p><p>“I need your help!” cried Jon.</p><p>“How unfortunate for you,” snorted Damian and turned on his heel to return to the school, when Jon got in front of him.</p><p>“Do you know where your dad is?” he asked.</p><p>Damian narrowed his eyes suspiciously; was this supposed to be a trick question?</p><p>“Where I left him, I suppose. What’s it to you?”</p><p>“I want to know where our dads disappeared to!” shouted Jon with a quivering voice.</p><p>“Wait,” comprehension dawned on Damian’s face, “you’re talking about Batman, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Yes! Your dad!”</p><p>“Batman is not my father,” Damian rolled his eyes.</p><p>Jon’s impatience turned into confusion. He clearly remembered Damian being introduced to him as Batman’s son.</p><p>“Then – who is your dad?”</p><p>“Red Hood,” announced Damian, his chest puffed out with pride.</p><p>The confusion didn’t leave Jon’s face, it only increased.</p><p>“<em>Who?</em>” he asked politely.</p><p>“Red Hood!” shouted Damian incredulously, “He was trained by Batman, the League of Assassins, and the All-Caste! It’s a shame you don’t know him because he can take down your dad with both arms tight behind his back!”</p><p>To Damian’s enormous satisfaction, Jon looked genuinely impressed by Red Hood’s CV, but at the mention of his dad, he was reminded of the reason he had set off to find Damian.</p><p>“Our dads – sorry – <em>my</em> dad and Batman have gone missing,” he squeaked.</p><p>“Batman doesn’t go missing,” Damian corrected him, “he chooses to go radio silence for the good of a mission.”</p><p>“My dad is not like that! He calls me every day, but now I haven’t heard of him in three days.”</p><p>“<em>Three days</em>?” Damian let out a cruel laugh, “You came all this way for <em>this</em>?”</p><p>“You have to help me find him!” Jon cried. “Like we did last time!”</p><p>“Go home!” Damian rolled his eyes and turned around to leave, only to find Jon in front of him once more. He tried to push him out of the way, but that didn’t seem possible, that kid was half-Kryptonian, after all.</p><p>“Please help me.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, back in the manor, Jason was lying on the couch, listening to Tim moan for what felt like an eternity. Ever since Bruce left, Tim’s mood was at an all-time low. He was rarely seen at home and in the off-chance he actually found his way to the manor, he spent every second at the bat-cave, staring at the screen of the bat-computer. Between his work at the Wayne Industries, crime-fighting, and at least a hundred more projects he was keeping a secret from everybody, nobody had seen him sleep or eat – or shower - in a week, and even Tim was slowly starting to realize he had bit off more than he could chew. So when he decided to go off that Thursday morning, instead of shutting him up, as he would usually do, Jason allowed his little brother to have his moment under the sun and rant about all the things that bothered him, which was mainly Damian.</p><p>“...And I won’t even mention what he did to me yesterday,” said Tim, before proceeding to describe in detail about everything Damian did the day before, which from the little Jason was able to listen before tuning him out, had to do with the boy sneaking inside Tim’s room to snoop around his stuff.</p><p>“He’s eleven… ” yawned Jason, after not being able to come up with a better excuse for his son's behavior.</p><p>“He’s a monster!” retorted Tim.</p><p>“Well, either way, he’s your nephew so you just have to learn to put up with him <em>and</em> lock your door…”</p><p>“He’s not my nephew!”</p><p>“I’m your <em>least favorite brother</em>,” Jason reminded him in a falsely sweet voice, “that makes him your nephew!”</p><p>“I swear to you, if that brat comes again anywhere near my computer or my stuff, I will –”</p><p>Jason pulled himself out of the couch, “listen, buddy,” he placed a sympathetic hand on his brother’s shoulder, “I get it! I’m biologically programmed to love him and still most days, all I want to do is tie him up to a rocketship and shoot him off to Mars.”</p><p>“That’s disturbingly specific,” muttered Tim.</p><p>Jason sighed.</p><p>“If he bothers you so much, just hit him – wish I could...”</p><p>“Are you trying to convince me to beat up your kid for you?” asked Tim, looking at Jason as if he was trying to make up his mind about calling the social services on him.</p><p>“No, I’m just saying, if you want to beat him up, do it and quit whining. But hurry up; he’s eleven, and you won’t be able to take him for long.”</p><p>The doorbell rang, and soon after came the sound of two sets of footsteps making their way from the main hall towards the drawing-room.</p><p>“Shouldn’t you be at school?” asked Jason, as Damian stormed purposefully inside the room, closely followed by a second boy Jason had never seen before, and he could only assume was his son’s classmate.</p><p>Damian opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by Jason’s phone beeping from the back pocket of his jeans. His face flushed as he read the name on the screen, and spent the next thirty seconds whispering to the receiver, “Yes – Hi – Yes - He just came home – Oh really? – Yes, I’ll talk to him – Thank you.”</p><p>“Who was that?” demanded Damian at once.</p><p>“A teacher,” replied Jason innocently, quickly putting his phone back inside his pocket, “to let me know that you left the school without permission.”</p><p>“Which teacher?” asked Damian in a tone that suggested he knew exactly the answer to his question.</p><p>“Does it matter? You just earned yourself a week of detention!” announced Jason darkly, but Damian didn’t seem to care.</p><p>“How does <em>she</em> have your number?”</p><p>“It’s in the school records - I’m a parent!” said Jason defiantly.</p><p>“Hardly…” muttered Tim from the back, earning himself a nasty glare from his brother.</p><p> “So you made a friend!” Jason quickly tried to change the subject by pointing at the little boy standing awkwardly behind Damian.</p><p> “Who? That?” Damian turned to look at Jon in disgust as if having the word ‘friend’ used on someone like him was deeply offending, “of course not.”</p><p>“Then, who are you?” Jason carefully examined the little boy before turning to his son, and with a note of panic in his voice, he asked, “<em>did you kidnap this kid?</em>”</p><p>“I hope not. That’s Superman’s son - hi Jon,” greeted Tim, who had met Jon on several occasions.</p><p>“Hello,” Jon gave them a shy, little wave.</p><p>“Do your parents know you’re here?” Jason heard himself say. Just six months ago he was an outlaw, running around shooting bad guys with Roy and Starfire, and now all he did was worry about homework, basketball practices, and <em>playdates</em>.</p><p>“My dad is missing,” said Jon, and tears automatically started to form underneath his eyes.</p><p>Jason felt the hair at the back of his neck stand up; he had never dealt with a crying child before. Damian, who was now looking disgracefully at Jon, considered crying a major weakness, one that he could never allow himself.</p><p>“There-there,” Jason towered over Jon and awkwardly patted his shoulder. “Why do you think your dad is missing?” he asked softly.</p><p>“Because he hasn’t called him in <em>three days</em>,” said Damian mockingly.</p><p>“My dad always calls me when he’s on a mission,” explained Jon through his tears.</p><p>“He’s probably just busy,” said Jason dismissively, who like Damian was used to Bruce’s weeks-long of radio silence, but Jon shook his head so violently, that his tears splattered all over Damian.</p><p>“My dad would’ve called me,” he said, wiping his tears to make room for the new ones.</p><p>Jason didn’t know what to say. He straightened up and threw a longing look towards the hallway, hoping to see Dick coming to his aid. Dick was good with kids, surely he would know how to calm down this tiny, half-alien boy. But help came from an unlikely place.</p><p>“Jon, your dad is fine,” declared Tim.</p><p>“How do <em>you</em> know?” asked Jason suspiciously.</p><p>“Superman is with Batman,” Damian announced to the room.</p><p>“Is that so?”</p><p>“Yes,” admitted Tim through gritted teeth, visibly not satisfied that this information was out in the open, and turned his attention back to Jon, “Jon, I’m monitoring the mission and everything is going as planned.”</p><p>Jon looked relieved but not yet entirely convinced.</p><p>“Then why won’t he call me?”</p><p>Tim hesitated; he could feel Jason’s eyes drilling a hole at the back of his head.</p><p>“He must be doing it for the good of the mission, but I promise you that your dad is fine,” he said vaguely but reassuringly, before rounding on Damian, “stay out of my stuff or else!”</p><p>Tim returned to the bat-cave to continue with his work. Damian, too, refused to spend any more time with Jon, so as soon as Tim cleared the situation, he disappeared to his room, leaving Jason alone with the boy. Jon’s eyes were still red and swollen but after a glass of apple juice and some of Alfred’s freshly-baked cookies, his spirits appeared to be lifted.</p><p>“You should probably go home now, your mom will be worried,” said Jason, getting up from the couch and motioning for Jon to do the same.</p><p>The boy’s ears went scarlet as he quickly nodded, thanked Jason for his hospitality, and left the manor.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Who is that kid staying with?” asked Jason later that evening, as all three brothers gathered in the bat-cave; Dick preparing to take his turn in patrolling Gotham.</p><p>“Probably with his mother,” suggested Dick, putting on his mask.</p><p>"He went all weird when I mentioned his mother," said Jason, looking down at Tim, who was busily typing on the computer, pretending not to listen to the conversation. "You wouldn't know anything about that? Right, Timbo?"</p><p>Tim stopped typing.</p><p>“Lois Lane is also on the mission,” he admitted half-heartedly.</p><p>Jason cursed.</p><p>“All these secrets are really starting to piss me off! A kid knows more about this mission than we do!” he said, expecting to be told-off by Dick, but to his surprise, Dick also seemed to be quite annoyed, although not yet as vocal about it. After all, Dick had lived with Bruce the longest and through the years had managed to build immunity to their father’s secrecy. </p><p>The awkward silence was interrupted by a beeping sound coming from the computer.</p><p>“A motion sensor on the exterior of the second floor has been activated – it’s probably some bird,” said Tim, pushing a button, and immediately on the screen of the bat-computer appeared an outside image from the manor, where they could see as clear as day, not a bird, but in fact, a flying child, open the window of Damian’s bedroom and make his way inside.</p><p>“Fine. I’ll deal with it,” sighed Jason, as both Tim and Dick turned to look at him.</p><p>He dragged his feet to the second floor and stood outside of Damian’s bedroom door. Damian's and Jon's voices could be heard from the floor below. In fact, they were both so immersed in their argument, that even Jon with his super-hearing and x-ray vision, didn’t notice Jason standing behind the door, eavesdropping.</p><p>“I said, get the hell out of my room!” Damian was yelling angrily. “I have kryptonite!”</p><p>“But I know where they are! We can go together like we did last time!” he heard Jon’s squeaky voice saying, "They are in - "</p><p>“I don’t care!” Damian interrupted him.</p><p>“But you’re a superhero!” Jon reminded him. "We did so well last time! We can go save them!"</p><p>Jason decided he had heard enough, so he pushed the door open.</p><p>“Boys, if you’re going to be sneaking around this house, I suggest you wise up because there are motion detection cameras everywhere,” said Jason, avoiding to mention that at least half of those were installed when he was a teenager to keep him from constantly getting into trouble.</p><p>“We weren’t sneaking around!” said Damian indignantly, “he came through my window!”</p><p>“Jon…”</p><p>At the prospect of being scolded by an adult, Jon’s eyes started to well up.</p><p>“Jon, it’s okay,” Jason immediately adjusted his tone to sound more sympathetic.</p><p>“You’re such a cry baby,” Damian turned his back on Jon as if seeing him cry was giving him a secondhand embarrassment.</p><p>“I know you’re worried about your parents,” Jason lowered himself to Jon's eye level, “but you can’t be sneaking around like this. Who are you staying with?”</p><p>“My grandparents...”</p><p>“They must be very worried about you.”</p><p>“They don’t know I’m gone,” admitted Jon guiltily, “they think I’m on a trip with my school.”</p><p>Jason was impressed that an innocent-looking kid like Jon was able to lie, and a part of him wanted to say, “good job!” But then he remembered he was now a parent and his own son was within earshot, so instead, he forced himself to shake his head disapprovingly and say, “they’ll be very disappointed in you when they find out you lied to them.”</p><p>“Please don’t tell them, Mr. Red Hood!” begged Jon.</p><p>“I can't promise you that,” replied Jason, sternly, even though he had no intention of snitching on the kid. "But if you want, you can stay here tonight.”</p><p>Damian whipped around.</p><p>“Over my dead body!” he exclaimed, stomping his foot.</p><p>“It’s just for one night,” Jason glared at his son, before returning his gaze on Jon, “what do you say?”</p><p>Jon nodded weakly and allowed Jason to escort him out of the room.</p><p>“So, Jon,” he started when he and the boy had reached the end of the corridor, “where did you say your dad is?”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Chapter: Super-sons Part 2</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Super-Sons Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day didn’t start well from the beginning. As soon as Damian woke up, he was rudely reminded that Jon was still in his house, as the boy not only had the nerve to come down for breakfast but to Damian’s horror, he was also wearing his clothes.</p><p>“Your dad let me borrow them,” explained Jon with an innocent grin, “he’s very nice.”</p><p>“Master Dick...” warned Alfred, prompting Dick to catch the boy around the waist, just as he was about to run down to the bat-cave and grab some Kryptonite.</p><p>Damian's day didn’t improve as it progressed. When he arrived at school, he was greeted by Jen Sanders, and after twenty minutes of nagging about the dangers of Gotham and how children his age shouldn't be alone in the streets, handed him over a detention slip for skipping class the day before. Thus, he had to not only endure seven hours of tedious classes but also sit through detention he wouldn’t have gotten in the first place if it weren’t for Jon.</p><p>But the icing on the dreadful cake that was his day came when he returned home, only to find Jason in the library, teaching Jon how to play chess.</p><p>“What is he still doing here?” he demanded, dropping his briefcase on the floor.</p><p>“Mr. Hood let me stay here until Monday!” announced Jon brightly, “isn’t that awesome?”</p><p>‘<em>Awesome’</em> wasn’t the word Damian would’ve used to describe his feelings. In fact, no word seemed to be able to do the job; therefore, he chose to say nothing at all and stormed out of the library.</p><p>Jason caught up with him on the second landing.</p><p>“I didn’t want him to get in trouble with his family, that’s why I let him stay here until the end of his supposed school trip,” he explained, but Damian wasn’t listening. He marched straight to his bedroom and stood outside of it, his head pressing against the door.</p><p>“If you adopt Jon, I will go back to my mother,” he said coldly and disappeared inside his room, leaving Jason stunned and wide-eyed, staring at the closed door.</p><p>Jon didn’t bother Damian for the rest of the day, and it was only after the grandfather clock in the hallway outside his room struck eight, that his mood started to improve. It was officially Friday night, and after an entire week of useless classes and mundane responsibilities, he could finally be Robin.</p><p>He quickly pulled on his suit, even though it was still too early, and headed to the bat-cave, making sure to avoid the library on his way there.</p><p>Dick was alone. Hunched over the computer, he was smashing frantically at the keyboard but stopped the second he heard footsteps coming from the entrance and switched the screen to what looked like a S.T.A.R labs blueprint.</p><p>“Why were you sneaking into the Justice League database?” asked Damian, who had himself hacked their database more times than he could recall, and so had no trouble recognizing what Dick was doing.</p><p>The tips of Dick’s ears went red.</p><p>“I wasn’t <em>sneaking.</em> I was just <em>checking</em> something,” he said guiltily. “Never mind that for now, is everything okay?” he asked, as the boy slammed on a spare chair next to him.</p><p>“Yes,” groaned Damian miserably.</p><p>Dick faced the other way, and if Damian weren't too busy pouting, he would’ve noticed the man struggling to hide a smile.</p><p>“He will not adopt Jon,” Dick assured him gently, once he regained control of his face.</p><p>Damian quickly sat up, almost knocking his chair over.</p><p>“How do you know?” he tried his best to sound indifferent, and not at all bothered by the idea of his father possibly replacing him with another boy.</p><p>“Well... for one, Jon’s parents are both alive and well,” Dick reminded him matter-of-factly. “Plus, I think it’s safe to say, one kid is Jason’s limit.”</p><p>“Yeah, but Jon is so <em>nice</em>,” spat Damian in a disgusted tone, “<em>everyone likes Jon.</em>”</p><p>“He is nice,” agreed Dick, and seeing Damian’s face harden, he swiftly added, “but <em>your</em> dad would still choose <em>you</em> every time.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>At last, things were starting to look up for Damian. That night’s patrol was bound to be more exciting than usual. According to Tim’s inside information, there would be an attempt to raid the Gotham S.T.A.R labs, and since he was too busy to deal with it himself, he had half-heartedly and with great pain, agreed to pass that case over to Dick. And even though Tim’s inside source had not bothered to mention what these aspiring thieves would try and steal, to Damian it didn’t matter, as he would surely catch them before they even set foot inside the area. Dick didn’t seem as optimistic and kept preaching caution and vigilance, as he did every time before every mission.</p><p>The lab was located in the outskirts of Gotham, not too far from the Wayne Manor, in a secluded area surrounded by trees and nothing else. As soon as they arrived at the building, Dick circled the entire perimeter and suggested they split up. He would patrol the back entrance, which he deemed more dangerous, while Damian’s orders were to stay on the front of the building and keep his eyes open for an intruder or anything that seemed out of the ordinary.</p><p>“You know the drill; call me immediately if you see anything,” he told Damian before leaving him on the roof.  </p><p>That was an hour ago, and nothing at all had since taken place, forcing Damian’s initial excitement to die down.</p><p><em>But that has always been a big part of the job; waiting around while enjoying the view,</em> the boy tried to reason with himself, in an attempt to rekindle his excitement. However, in this case, even the view was disappointing. The forest that surrounded the building was too dense for him to see anything. As for the sky, it was cloudy without a single star in sight. So Damian spent his time straining his ears, trying to listen to anything that could be remotely useful to the job he came to do.</p><p>“Hey!” he suddenly heard a voice coming from the trees. “Damian! Up here!”</p><p>Damian walked towards the edge of the roof, his fists balled, ready to jump into action. But as soon as he reached the edge, he realized he would need something more than his fists to defeat that enemy.</p><p>“Are you stalking me?” he hissed at Jon, who was sitting at the very top of a tree near the roof.</p><p>“No… I was just bored,” Jon shrugged, carving something that looked like his initials on the tree, using his fingernails. “Your dad said I should go to sleep, but I wasn’t tired yet.”</p><p>“Leave!” Damian whipped around, and with his fists still balled, returned to his spot.</p><p>“I can be useful!” Jon gave a small push and flew over Damian’s head. “We were such a great team last time!”</p><p>Damian had had enough.</p><p>“A great team?” he thundered, “it was your idea to follow the Justice League into their mission! Yet as soon as we got caught, I got all the blame! Batman wouldn’t even speak to me for a week! And if they find you here, it will somehow turn out to be my fault, too! Because I’m the bad influence, and you’re the good kid who can do no wrong!”</p><p>Jon fell silent. He didn’t know Damian got all the blame for their last little adventure. He also got grounded by his parents, but seeing as Damian’s chest was heaving with rage and indignation, he figured there would be a better time to mention that.</p><p>“I think I heard something,” he whispered suddenly, looking at the other side of the building.</p><p>Damian had heard it too. It sounded like someone was smashing glass bottles against the wall. But why would anyone in their right mind throw anything at a well-secured lab?</p><p>“We should go check,” suggested Jon excitedly.</p><p>Damian didn’t move an inch. The noise had come from the other side of the building, while he had direct orders to stay put. He reached to his earpiece to alert Dick about the noise.</p><p>“Fine, I’ll go check!” said Jon impatiently, eager to help.</p><p>“No, you shouldn’t do anything! You shouldn’t even be here!” Damian barked at him.</p><p>Jon pouted.</p><p>The sound of another glass bottle meeting the wall came from the same direction, this time clearer than ever.</p><p>“Should we go now?” asked Jon, staring pleadingly at Damian.</p><p>“<em>You</em> are not going to do anything! That's <em>my</em> mission!” hissed Damian and ran the length to the back of the building with Jon flying over his head like an over-excited mosquito.</p><p>Within minutes Damian had managed to climb down onto the ground, but there was no one around. There were only some small pieces of shattered glass and an odd smell of sea salt and rain.</p><p>“Can you smell that?” asked Damian, instinctively hiding his mouth and nose into his elbow.</p><p>“Yes, chocolate and cotton candy -- <em>Over there!</em>” screamed out Jon, pointing at the woods. “Someone is standing there!”</p><p>It was too far and dark for Damian to see anything. He bit hard on his lower lip to catch a yelp from escaping him, as he felt a sharp pain on the top of his head, almost as if someone had smashed one of those bottles on it.</p><p>“I got this!” cried Jon and sprinted towards the forest.</p><p>“Come back here, you stupid Gryffindor! This can be a trap!” bellowed Damian, darting right after him.</p><p>He had run for several minutes and far inside the forest, when he finally admitted to his wounded ego, he was no match for Jon’s super-human speed. The boy had disappeared, and there was no way he could catch up with him. Damian stopped and looked around, trying to get oriented when he got the unpleasant feeling of being watched.</p><p>“Jon!” he shouted at the trees, for the first time hoping to see Jon’s face appear from between some bushes. But there was no Jon. The pain in his head was starting to get unbearable; he had to find his way back quickly.</p><p>A loud hiss made him spin wildly around. Something was there, hiding between the dark trees; he could feel its invisible eyes burning through his skin, scrutinizing his every move.</p><p>“<em>Damian</em>…” a low, cold voice came from the trees, making his heart stop.</p><p>“Jon!” Damian yelled again, though he knew all too well that the voice didn’t belong to Jon. But it couldn’t be who he thought it was. That person was dead. He had seen him die with his very own eyes.</p><p><em>“Damian!”</em> repeated the voice violently; this time so close to him, he could feel its cool breath in his ear.</p><p>Damian wished to run, but his legs seemed to have forgotten how to do that. His whole body had gone numb with fear.</p><p><em>“Grandfather?”</em> he asked weakly, the pain in his head growing even stronger.</p><p><em>“How dare you call me that?”</em> Ra’s al Ghul’s voice bellowed inside his ear.<em> “After everything you’ve done!”</em></p><p>These words were met with a series of disgruntled mumbling; there were more people in the forest.</p><p>“Show yourselves, you cowards!” Damian shouted at the trees and his invisible enemies, and to his horror heard them taunt and snigger. “Show yourselves!”</p><p><em>“You could’ve saved me! You could’ve brought me back! But you, my own flesh and blood, betrayed me!”</em> yelled Ra’s al Ghul, over the hundreds of mocking voices.</p><p>“I didn’t betray you!” cried Damian. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, holding his head that felt ready to explode from the pain.</p><p><em>“You let me die!”</em> raged Ra’s al Ghul,<em> “so I will return the favor.”</em></p><p>An army of black smoke emerged from between the trees and wrapped around him, suffocating him. Damian tried desperately to fight back, each of his fists connecting with nothing but shapeless, empty smoke. He was utterly powerless against these creatures. And they knew it. With each hit, the laughing and the taunting from his enemies grew louder.</p><p><em>“Fight boy!”</em> the voice of Ra’s al Ghul was now hammering inside his head.<em> “Your father made you soft! He made you weak! You are no blood of mine!”</em></p><p>Damian fought until he could no longer breathe. Then, everything went dark.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Damian opened his eyes, it took him a few seconds before he realized he wasn’t dead and was instead lying flat on his back inside the comfort of the bat-mobile. The last thing he could remember was running into the forest; everything else was a blur.</p><p>“You’re awake!” a little voice came from the front. It belonged to Jon. <em>That’s right, Jon had butted into his mission, </em>he remembered, and a new wave of annoyance passed through him.</p><p>“What happened?” he asked, trying to sit up, but Jon laid a hand on his chest to hold him down.</p><p>“You should rest! Your uncle said we breathed in some gas that made us see things... things that weren’t real,” began Jon, weakly, “I’m only half-human… so I came to my senses as soon as I entered the forest, but you… you…”</p><p>“Fainted,” groaned Damian, slapping Jon’s hand away from him.</p><p>“You just had a harder time,” explained Jon kindly, “when I found you, you were still hallucinating -- you tried to kill me.”</p><p>“Maybe I wasn’t hallucinating as much as you think I was,” muttered Damian coldly, “where’s Richard?”</p><p>“He’s with Tim at the lab. They’ve been there for a while.” said Jon, pointing at the building, “Tim came to see if they can figure out where the gas came from.”</p><p>It wasn’t long before Dick returned to the car, and to Damian’s immense relief, he was on his own. The last thing he needed was Tim’s gloating.</p><p>“Was anything stolen from the lab?” asked Damian at once.</p><p>“They don’t know yet,” said Dick, motioning for Damian to remain in his seat. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“In top physical shape, like always,” bragged Damian, wiping the cold sweat dripping from his forehead with the back of his hand.</p><p>“Good, then you’ll have enough strength to explain exactly why you left your post without alerting me, <em>and you</em>,” he turned to Jon, who gulped, “will explain why you’re here.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Jason was pacing up and down the bat-cave as he waited. Dick had informed him that something went wrong during their mission but not how wrong, so when he saw Jon getting out of the car, he had to do a double-take.</p><p>“I thought you were in bed…” he pointed a limp finger at the boy, his voice a mixture of pride and frustration. “What happened?”</p><p>“That’s what I want to know – sit!” Dick pulled up two chairs and waited until both boys took a seat across from him. “Damian, you go first.”</p><p>Damian thought hard for a second, and Jason knew he was trying to figure out whether lying would help his situation. He must’ve decided against it, for when he opened his mouth, he appeared rather sincere.</p><p>“I was waiting on the roof when I heard a noise coming from the other side and I went to check it out. There was a smell,” Damian paused for a second,  a shadow coming over his face. “And the next thing I knew, I was lying in the car,” he added with a shrug as if he was describing another boring day in his life.</p><p>“Why did you go check it out when I specifically asked you to alert me if you heard anything?” asked Dick sternly.</p><p>Damian threw an angry glance at Jon, but Jason, who seemed more worried about his son being gassed than ignoring an order, spared him from answering the question.</p><p>“Wait a second,” he interrupted, leaning forward to take hold of Damian’s face, and ignoring the boy’s protests, he checked his eyes and temperature. “He’s all drenched in sweat. Have you found what gas they breathed in?”</p><p>“Tim ordered a test on the empty bottles we found at the scene,” said Dick, “but by the looks of it, it was a pretty strong hallucinative – Jon, your turn.”</p><p>Jon’s face turned red. He threw a sideways glance at Damian and said, “It was all my fault.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” asked Dick.</p><p>“It was my fault Damian left his post,” admitted Jon taking a deep breath, “I was bored, so I flew over to Damian to help him on his case. When we heard those noises, Damian wanted to stay put and alert you instead, but I… I wanted to check. And so, Damian came after me.”</p><p>“That was very irresponsible of you, Jon,” said Dick sternly, making Jon hang his head in shame. “And you,” he turned back to Damian, “you should’ve known better.”</p><p>“Well, I think we heard enough,” said Jason, and Damian got up, impatient to return to his bedroom for a chance to be alone. “Damian, you’re grounded.”</p><p>Damian’s mouth fell open.</p><p>“What? Why?” he yelled in protest, once he recovered from the initial shock.</p><p>“Because to prove that this was your mission, you abandoned your post,” said Jason, reading between the lines of Jon’s confession. “As a consequence you were gassed. You could’ve died -- Both of you! So, no more patrol for –” he paused to think what would be an appropriate sentence for this sort of crime. This was strange. He had never had to come up with a punishment before; usually, he was the one being punished. “No more patrol for <em>two weeks</em>,” he said finally and could’ve sworn he saw Dick giving him a discreet thumbs-up.</p><p>Damian argued for a few minutes without any results before angrily rounding on Jon.</p><p>“And what about him?”</p><p>“I can’t punish Jon. I’m not his dad,” said Jason with a shrug, and turned to Jon, “But I will call your grandparents tomorrow to let them know you’re here.”</p><p>To Jason’s relief, Jon didn’t cry.</p><p>“Now go to your rooms,” ordered Jason and watched the two boys drag their feet back to their respective rooms.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Do you think I was too tough on him?” asked Jason an hour later.</p><p>“Too tough?” Tim repeated incredulously, “He ignored a direct order. If I had done something like that to Bruce, I would consider myself lucky to get away with a slap on the wrist.”</p><p>“It might come as a surprise to you, Tim, but I don’t normally think, ‘what would Bruce do?’ when it comes to parenting,” said Jason mockingly, “Childcare was never really his strong suit.”</p><p>“Bruce was a good father to us! He was tough but fair,” Tim defended so passionately, that both Dick and Jason gave a searching look around the bat-cave, expecting to find Bruce standing in some corner, eavesdropping.</p><p>“So, did you find anything about the gas?” asked Dick, changing the subject before it escalated to a fight.</p><p>“They’re still running some tests, but I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” said Tim sounding rather impressed, and immediately felt the need to add, “But it’s non-lethal, and it normally wears off within an hour. Don't worry, the brat will be fine.”</p><p>“Was anything taken from the lab?”</p><p>Tim’s face darkened.</p><p>“Blue poppies and some other key ingredients,” he announced grimly. “And according to my source, they will raid other labs as well. From what it seems, someone is trying to create a large dose of fear gas.”</p><p>“Who is your source?” asked Jason suspiciously.</p><p>“You know I can’t answer that,” replied Tim, rather offended, as if the question was deeply personal.</p><p>“Tim, if we’re going to be working together on this, we need to trust each other,” said Dick wisely, “we don’t have to be like Bruce.”</p><p>Tim glared at the screen of the bat-computer for a few seconds.</p><p>“Fine,” he said gloomily, “It’s Dr. Crane.”</p><p>“Scarecrow is your source? You trust that lunatic?” cried Jason. “For all we know, this can all be a trap.”</p><p>“He was right though! There was an attempt tonight!”</p><p>“I don’t like this…”</p><p>“Oh, please! You work with criminals all the time!” snapped Tim, “You <em>are</em> a criminal!”</p><p>“I’m an outlaw, there’s a difference,” said Jason indignantly.</p><p>Tim rolled his eyes.</p><p>“According to Dr. Crane, there will be three more attempts tomorrow in three different labs around Gotham, and since the brat is grounded, I was thinking…”</p><p>“A Robin team up?” smiled Dick.</p><p>Jason and Tim winced.</p><p>“Why do you always have to make everything sound so cheesy?” asked Tim with a sigh, “but yes.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Chapter: The Kidnapping.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Kidnapping</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Damian didn’t sleep well that night. He kept twisting and turning in his bed, unable to think of anything other than his grandfather and the things he said to him in the forest.</p><p>“You were gassed. It was just a hallucination, quit being stupid,” he had to keep reminding himself sternly. Nevertheless, the knowledge of it all being in his head didn’t make him feel any better, for he knew this was how his grandfather would’ve really felt had he foreseen Damian’s betrayal. After all that his grandfather did for him, after all the years he spent training him to be the best, Damian refused to bring him back when he had the chance, and for that, he was a traitor no matter how hard he tried to sugarcoat it.</p><p>“And now, thanks to that genius, I’m grounded.” He turned onto his side to face the giant fish tank, taking over his entire nightstand. “Can you believe that, Sparky?”</p><p>The single tiny goldfish inside, let a few bubbles out of his mouth as if he was trying to say something.</p><p>“But I’ll show them…” said Damian, and closed his eyes, determinate to get some sleep, at last.</p><p>To express his displeasure over the way he was treated the night before, Damian decided to remain in his room the following day and ignore every invitation to come down for breakfast or afternoon tea. He knew that his plan was working because he could hear footsteps and nervous whispers coming from outside his bedroom, and from time to time, Jason, Dick, and Alfred would take turns knocking on his door, asking if he needed anything, to which question, Damian would always answer with a dramatic silence.</p><p>The best part about his plan was that Damian didn’t have to starve himself. Jon, who evidently felt very guilty about Damian getting grounded, had flown into the kitchen and stole everything he could get his hands on, and then sneaked the food through Damian’s bedroom window, this time careful not to activate any of the motion sensors.</p><p>“Want to play some videogames? My grandparents won’t be here until tomorrow morning - <em>they wanted to come and get me in person</em>,” added Jon in a sorrowful tone that suggested he had only a few hours left to live.</p><p>“No.” Damian shut his window on Jon’s face.</p><p>This act of good faith didn’t suddenly make Damian forget all Jon had done, although as he sat on his bed munching on cookies, muffins, apple eclairs, and mince pies, his sentiments towards the boy became much less threatening.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>While Damian was enjoying a secret picnic in his bedroom, Jason was busy preparing for the mission he had that night. Tim had managed to lure him and Dick in the bat-cave since early afternoon to go over the case for what felt like the hundredth time that day.   </p><p>“There will be three labs under attack tonight,” Tim was saying in his know-it-all tone, “M.Y.T.H.O.S labs, Wayne enterprises chemical labs, and Dr. Crane’s private facility…”  </p><p>“We know, Tim, we’ve been over this a hundred times” whined Dick, his patience growing thinner with Tim’s every word.</p><p>“This time it will be easier since we know what the thieves are after,” continued Tim, acting as though nobody had spoken. “Hood, you’ll take care of the M.Y.T.H.O.S labs, it’s the smallest of the three, and even <em>you</em> will find it hard to mess it up.”</p><p>“Right,” agreed Jason, staring blankly at the image of M.Y.T.H.O.S labs displayed on the screen of the bat-computer. </p><p>Dick and Tim both turned to look at him.</p><p>“What?” asked Jason defiantly, looking from one to the other.</p><p>“He just basically called you useless and you didn’t even try to punch him,” said Dick, sounding rather impressed, and Tim shook his head in mild disappointment.</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry, buddy,” apologized Jason, and before his brother had the time to react; he landed an audible left hook on Tim’s arm. “I’m just worried about the kid. I think he’s planning to run away to Talia.”</p><p>“Jay, he’s messing with you,” said Dick bracingly.</p><p>“You think?”</p><p>“I’m sure.”</p><p>“He’s not stupid. He knows his mother wouldn’t let him get away with half the stuff you do,” said Tim, nursing his arm. “Now if you please, can we get back to our jobs? Right! The Wayne Enterprises chemical labs…”</p><p>Jason didn’t find their words too reassuring and once the briefing was over, he went upstairs and stood outside of Damian’s room. He knocked on the door and waited for a few seconds, but just as he had expected, there was no answer.</p><p>“Damian, I’m coming in,” he warned and pushed the door open.</p><p>He found Damian sitting on his bed, his face hidden behind Lord of the Rings.</p><p>Jason approached the bed, sat beside the boy, and looked at the hardcover of the book.</p><p>“You’re going to have to talk to me one day,” he said determinately, folding his arms to show that he had no intention of going anywhere until that happened.</p><p>Damian lowered the book a couple of inches, just so he could glare at him.</p><p>“You deserved to be grounded."</p><p>“Jon deserved to be grounded! I didn’t do anything!” Damian protested at once.</p><p>“Aha!” exclaimed Jason triumphantly and watched his son hide behind the book once again. “You left your post because you were annoyed, that’s a rookie mistake, and you know it.”</p><p>“Is that why you came? To tell me I deserved to be punished?” Damian snapped, throwing Lord of the Rings on the floor and accidentally knocking over a large platter of cream pies that were hidden behind the bed.</p><p>“No, I came to make sure you didn’t think about running away to your mother,” said Jason truthfully, leaning lazily down against the pillows.</p><p>“Maybe I should,” said Damian stubbornly, though it was apparent he hadn’t considered that plan, “and with a bit of luck, Superman will die on his mission, and you can adopt Jon.”</p><p>“Adopt Jon?” Jason shuddered at the idea. “Why would I do that? The kid is as much of a pain in the ass as you.”</p><p>Jason flashed a smile at the look of indignation on his son’s face.</p><p>“I’m serious! It’s such a relief that you and Jon aren’t friends, dealing with one of you is hard enough,” he laughed, reaching forward to ruffle Damian’s hair, who immediately jumped as far away as possible, hissing like a wild animal.</p><p>“I have a friend already, I don’t need Jon,” he said, furiously patting his hair down.</p><p> Jason glanced over at the tiny goldfish swimming lazily around the much too big for its size fish tank.</p><p>“Yes, him!” said Damian defensively, following his father’s eyes.</p><p>“I’m not judging,” said Jason quickly, “when I was your age my best friend was a gargoyle, and I turned out alright.”</p><p>Damian blinked several times. Between his stint in Arkham and the countless attempts to murder his own father, not many people would be able to confidently claim that Jason Todd had turned out <em>alright</em>.</p><p>Having guessed his son's thoughts, Jason gave a hearty laugh and got up. He had reached the door when Damian's voice made him halt.</p><p>“Do you remember how it was when you… when you were dead?”</p><p>Jason spun around, unable to hide the surprise on his face. He didn't want to discuss the topic of his death, much less with his eleven-year-old son, but a single look at Damian was enough to understand that this question was weighing on the kid for a long time, and it took every ounce of trust he had in Jason, to finally ask it.</p><p>“No, I don’t remember anything after the explosion,” he replied truthfully after a short pause. “I was alive for several weeks before I started having any sense of identity. And that was only thanks to your mother.”</p><p>“So you wouldn’t care if she didn’t bring you back,” pressed on Damian.</p><p>“I guess not,” said Jason, eyeing his son suspiciously, “is that about your grandfather?”</p><p>“No,” said Damian quickly, and to avoid his father’s eyes, he dived under his bed to retrieve Lord of the Rings that was now covered in cream, having landed on a plate of Alfred's homemade cream pies.</p><p>“Even if we brought Ra’s al Ghul back, he would never be the same, Damian.” Jason took a deep breath, “I need you to understand that. The man you knew is gone. Whatever it was that we would bring, wouldn’t be him and it would be unfair to you and to his memory to do such a thing,” he said sternly.</p><p>“I’m not planning to resurrect my grandfather because you <em>unfairly</em> grounded me!” Damian’s head popped up from under the bed to roll his eyes at his father.</p><p>“Good,” said Jason in his most serious tone, “and your grounding is very well deserved.”</p><p>Jason opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.</p><p>“Play videogames with Jon, will you? And try to have some fun while I help Mr. Know-it-all on his case,” he said softly.</p><p>“Isn’t <em>having</em> <em>fun</em> going against the grounding rules?” asked Damian mischievously.</p><p>“You’re grounded from hunting down bad guys, not having fun,” explained Jason with a wink. “Also, dinner will be ready soon; you might want to lay off the snacks.” He closed the door on his way out.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dick, Tim, and Jason left the manor at around ten o’clock. Damian didn’t see them out but heard the three motorbikes leaving the driveway. He hurried to his window and watched the bikes until they turned a corner and went completely out of sight. Then, he walked back to his bed and sighed. This was supposed to be his case, his time out of the manor, and his chance to be something other than a mundane eleven-year-old kid. Of course, Jason would’ve loved nothing more than to turn him into a normal kid. He knew that was his father’s biggest ambition in life as he had overheard him debating the matter many times over with Talia over the phone. But regardless of what his father wanted, Damian would never allow himself to become normal. He was much too important for that.</p><p>He heaved a deeper sigh, stepped out of his room, and walked along the corridor. He knew that Alfred had given Jon the guestroom on the third floor, and without thinking much of where he was going, his legs led him right outside his door. He reached forward ready to knock but immediately pulled back. This was his house, he didn’t have to knock. He pushed the door open.</p><p>Jon was already in his pajamas (Damian’s pajamas), and for reasons known only to himself, he was hanging upside down from the curtain rod like a bat.</p><p>“Hi…” he greeted Damian weakly. </p><p>“This is your lucky day,” announced Damian with his nose up in the air, “I will allow you to play videogames with me.”</p><p>Jon’s previously sullen face immediately gleamed with excitement.</p><p>“For real?” he asked, unable to believe his luck.</p><p>“Yes,” said Damian airily and watched Jon do a backflip and land smoothly on the ground in front of him. “Show off… I can do that too,” he muttered under his breath.</p><p>Jon followed Damian downstairs to the playroom and helped him connect <em>Cheese Viking</em> to the TV.</p><p>“I’ll bring snacks!” said Jon, and within seconds he was back with arms full of popcorn and potato chips. </p><p>“You’d make a wonderful butler,” said Damian, getting a bag of popcorn and a soda can out of Jon’s hands.</p><p>“Should we be playing though?” asked Jon, suddenly very nervous, “we are grounded…”</p><p>“Since when do you care about getting in trouble?” asked Damian rather threateningly.</p><p>“Since I got you into trouble two days in a row,” said Jon innocently, sensing the danger in Damian’s voice.</p><p>Damian rolled his eyes.</p><p>“My dad said it's fine and told us to have fun,” he bragged, in a my-dad-is-better-than-your-dad type of voice.</p><p>“Your dad is so cool!”</p><p>Damian would never admit it, but the next two hours were some of the best he had inside the walls of Wayne Manor. For a second he even forgot of his dislike of Jon and was almost pleased to have somebody else around the house.</p><p>“Are you really this bad at the game or are you faking it so that I forgive you?” asked Damian, although he didn’t want an answer. Beating Jon was fun enough and he wouldn’t get bored of it any time soon. “And I win, again!” he shouted victoriously, throwing down his controller. “I beat you in all four games! You know, I bet I can kick your ass in real combat as well.”</p><p>“No you can’t,” laughed Jon.</p><p>“Sure I can! You might be stronger…”</p><p>“And faster, and have x-ray vision, and can fly, and shoot lasers out of my eyes...” Jon casually listed his powers.</p><p>“All of that. But I was trained by Ra's al Ghul, Batman, and Nightwing. I thought of twelve ways that I could beat you on the day we met!”</p><p>Jon took a thoughtful sip out of his soda.</p><p>“Batman can beat your dad,” said Damian, as if that settled the matter, “and so can my dad!”</p><p>Jon still didn’t look convinced.</p><p>“Should be spar?” he asked timidly.</p><p>“Only if you promise not to cry when you lose,” taunted Damian.</p><p>The two boys eyed each other intently and shook hands.</p><p>“Deal!” said Jon with a slight apprehension in his voice. “Should we do it here?”</p><p>“And destroy the TV and all the games? No, let’s go to the cave,” suggested Damian and peeked out of the playroom. Alfred had checked on them twenty minutes ago and he would probably do it again soon, so they didn’t have much time to spare.</p><p>“You go first,” Damian motioned Jon to run down the stairs while he stayed on the lookout for a sign of Alfred.</p><p>Damian caught up with him on the hallway close to the library, and together they tiptoed across the main entrance to the other side of the house and the secret passage to the bat-cave. Damian pushed the grandfather clock aside, revealing the hidden door to the cave, and opened it ever so slightly, just enough for Jon and himself to squeeze in.  </p><p>They started going down the steps when Damian suddenly tripped on something. He looked down and his heart sunk. It was Alfred. He was unconscious on the ground. Damian dropped down next to him and checked his pulse. He was alive.</p><p>“What happened to him?” cried Jon. “Is he sick?”</p><p>“I don’t know, help me move him.”</p><p>Jon picked up Alfred and moved his limp body onto the medical section of the cave where Damian and every other member of the family had received countless stitches and routine surgeries in the past. Damian scanned the man carefully from head to toe, but there were no visible wounds or anything that seemed to be wrong with him. It was almost as if he was just sleeping.</p><p>“He’ll be fine,” muttered Damian, speaking mostly to himself.</p><p>“You think he —” Jon stopped mid-sentence, “That smell again!”</p><p>“Cover your face!” barked Damian, but he knew it was already too late. He had breathed in the familiar scent of sea salt and rain, and before he could reach any of the gas masks, his head started to hurt and the voice of Ra’s al Ghul began whispering in his ear. The bat-cave was under attack. The safest place in Gotham was now compromised. He looked around but couldn’t see anyone.</p><p>“Jon, run out and find the others!” he yelled at the boy, but Jon wasn’t listening. There was a bang and an earsplitting scream left Jon’s lips. Four more bangs echoed around the walls of the cave, and Jon was on the ground.</p><p>Damian didn’t know what to believe. This must’ve been a hallucination. Jon was half Kryptonian; no regular bullet could ever affect him.</p><p>“You betrayed me, Damian!” Ra’s al Ghul roared in his ear.</p><p>Damian tried to tune him out and forced his legs towards Jon’s body. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground, but he crawled until he reached him. Jon was lying flat on the ground and there was a thin line of blood dripping out of the corner of his mouth. He couldn’t be dead. No bullet could kill Superman’s son.</p><p>Damian looked around. He was slowly being surrounded by the shadows he met in the forest. They weren’t attacking him, though. They were simply waiting. Damian balled his fists and got up, his vision blurry from the pain, he stood on his feet and staggered forward, trying to fight. He had to fight. But the shadows didn’t seem as willing to fight back. They avoided his punches and moved around him, circling him like wild hyenas and waiting… waiting for everything to go dark. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Damian regained consciousness, he quickly realized he was inside what appeared to be an iron jail cell. It was empty apart from himself and Jon, who was by his side with his head resting on Damian's lap. He was alive but just barely.</p><p>“Jon, can you hear me?” he slapped Jon’s face with an excessive amount of strength.</p><p>Jon moaned.</p><p>“I’ll take that as a yes.” He seized the corners of Jon’s shirt and carefully pulled it up, exposing the boy’s bare skin and the three large purple welts on his stomach.</p><p>Damian reached into his sock and retrieved his emergency dagger. </p><p>“This is gonna hurt you more than it will hurt me,” he said, and without giving himself time to reconsider his plan, he proceeded to make a long incision on the top of one of the marks. He was surprised to see how easy it was to cut through Jon’s Kryptonian skin and stared in shock as blood started pouring out of the wound down to the stone floor. The boy’s pupils were turning madly underneath his closed eyelids but he didn’t have the strength to scream out in pain.</p><p>Damian took a deep breath and stuck his fingers inside the open wound, feeling Jon’s skin struggling to heal but unable to do so, searching. When he pulled back, not less than ten excruciating seconds later, he was holding a small bullet; its tip made out of a green material Damian would recognize anywhere.</p><p>“Well, would you look at that,” he muttered, examining closely the Kryptonite bullet before placing it in his pocket.</p><p>“One down, two to go,” he said, watching Jon’s skin heal smoothly around the wound, leaving absolutely no mark.</p><p>By the time he was finished removing all three bullets, the jail cell looked like a particularly gruesome murder scene, that made even Damian barely able to keep the bucket of popcorn he had for dinner inside his stomach.</p><p>All color had returned to Jon’s face and he opened his eyes to look up at Damian with infinite gratitude.</p><p>“You saved my life,” he said weakly.</p><p>“Don’t sound so surprised,” complained Damian, “I’m a superhero.”</p><p>“Thank you,” said Jon earnestly.</p><p>“Oh well…” Damian pushed Jon’s head out of his lap and got up, trying not to slip on any of the blood, and approached the door of their cell.</p><p>“I can break the door and we’ll be out of here in seconds,” said Jon eagerly.</p><p>“Sure you can,” said Damian thoughtfully, “but where would be the fun in that?”</p><p>“Fun?” stammered Jon. “None of this is fun!”</p><p>“I want to know who had the nerve to come into my house and kidnap us,” said Damian, a manic gleam in his eyes.</p><p>“Dangerous people, that’s who!” cried Jon.</p><p>“Prepared people!” Damian corrected him. “We didn’t expect their attack and that’s why they caught us, but now it’s our turn to surprise them!” He looked down at Jon’s horrified face, “oh come on, where is your sense of adventure?”</p><p>“I had enough adventures for one night! Let’s go back!”</p><p>“Fine,” Damian shrugged his shoulders, “you can go back on your own. But… if I were you, I would be a little more curious to find out how some strangers got to me. They clearly knew Batman and the others were away, and you were staying with us. You see, you can’t buy Kryptonite online; they must’ve put some real effort to make bullets especially for you,” he said, retrieving from his pocket one of the bullets he had removed from Jon’s body, and held it up in such a way that the boy could see the Kryptonite tip. “They might even know why your dad hasn’t called you in all this time.”</p><p>Damian had said the magic words. Jon’s face hardened as he looked away from the door and asked, “Do you have a plan?”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Chapter: Dream Team</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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